Artemis Fowl: Legend of Annwyvn
by Schizophrenic Inner Child
Summary: Artemis Fowl is a genius. He needs serious help, and in more ways than you might think. The People are demoralised, for an unknown reason. And then the Old Country reawakens, bringing with it the Old Ways, which, in their full power, could destroy...
1. Prologue

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Disclaimer: I don't own any recognisable characters. Some are from Artemis Fowl, and therefore belong to Eoin Colfer. Some are from Celtic myths - these will be only interpretation - and therefore belong to themselves. Some characters will have names you might recognise (Branwen & Taliesin, for example) but they belong to me. 

~ Okay, serious part over with. Phew! *giggles* That's better! ~

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Summary: Artemis Fowl is a genius. He needs serious help, too, and in more ways than you might think. The People are demoralised, for an unknown reason. And then the Old Country reawakens, bringing with it the Old Ways, which, in their full power, could destroy all life to solidifying the Rainbow…

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Author's notes: Okay, I suck at summaries. But, yeah, this is my first fanfic, so if possible review, and (PLEASE!!!!!!!) tell me what you think. Even if you think its rubbish, your review will still tell me that you think that (no duh!). 

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Artemis Fowl: Legend of Annwyvn

~ Schizophrenic Inner Child ~

~~~

Prologue 

__

Passages found from the Irish Legacy of Druids

The Druids are dying out. So are the People. The cause for this couldn't be more clear- the surface dwellers, the Mud Men. The conditions - the _geis - _they force upon us, the carnation of magic, are getting harsher and harder. The People, with no wish for death, have allowed themselves to be pushed back into the ground into _duns_, the fairy forts. As for the Druids, the People and humans alike are turning on us, with treachery in their actions, betrayal in their thoughts, wishing to…_dispose_ of those who once helped them. Gods help us - Christianity is coming, and the time of the fae is ending. 

And in order to stay alive we have advised the fairies to not only retreat to the _duns_ underground, but to come home with us as we have long planned to do- home to Tír na nÓg. Our advice has fallen on deaf ears. If they are lucky, though, they will get there before the Battle.

The Battle! It has been predicted that a great battle will come and the fae will suffer like they did once, a long time ago. Bu the Mud Men will suffer too, and the mud they live in. It is strange how it has been predicted- for its place in time is neither here nor there, now or then. It is ever constant, always trying to break out, for it is in the future, but the People are dead. In the past, but the soldiers are being summoned still. It is now and forever. It is danger. Armageddon, to use the Mud Men's words. And we have had our Apocalypse.

So that the People who stay beneath the surface survive to return, the Druids have formed a band to present them with three sets of presents, once given from Tír na nÓg and returned. Now it is given once more. First, we give a spell, and not one of the original gifts. It will invade the blood of all in a certain family. It is a blessing, of sorts, although it could be called a curse. The People will be forewarned for the rest of eternity- a family of pixies, loyal to their king and race volunteered for a gift that we Druids have yet to bestow on another-the gift of prophecy. It is fitting that they are pixies; a pixie is among those who commence the Battle. It is even ironic, that they and their gift will perish in this fight, but it is too late now- and more good will be done than bad. Secondly, the memorabilia from the homeland, taken to help with the first conquest. Cauldron of Dagda; it will forever feed the children of Eire. Lía Fáil, the Stone of Destiny. Answerer, the sword of Nuada. The Spear of Lugh; and a new gift among the old - a set of keys to the realm of fae - the wearer can return to Tír na nÓg whenever they wish.

Lastly, a warning and a messenger. The warning is about the Battle - for it will come about when the Mud Men rediscover the fae. Twice. It will come about when we send a child to do an adult's work. When the guilty are innocent, the impossible is realised to be possible. The one we have sent is there already, unknowing. Not unwilling, just unknowing. 

*

A pale boy sat at a computer. His dark blue eyes narrowed as he suspiciously scrutinised the e-mail in front of him. Damn you, Po. Miles away, another child sat at another computer, doing the same; analysing an e-mail. Damn you, Po. However, this story concerns with the first juvenile mentioned. His name is Artemis Fowl the Second. He is an Irish boy genius, and a criminal mastermind. He has one of the highest tested IQs. He has a family and bodyguards. He has gold, therefore power. Yet none of this makes him happy. Artemis Fowl is never 'happy'. He feels it is a far too juvenile a term to have his emotions compared to such a simple word.

But he is still not happy.

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Author's notes: Okay. Okay. That was very short. Now, tell me what _you_ think, eh? REVIEW, my pretties! REVIEW! (yes, I did just call you pretty purple monkeys with wings. Or did I? o.O)


	2. Chapter the First

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Disclaimer: I don't own any recognisable characters. Some are from Artemis Fowl, and therefore belong to Eoin Colfer. Some are from Celtic myths - these will be only interpretation - and therefore belong to themselves. Some characters will have names you might recognise (Branwen & Taliesin, for example) but they belong to me. 

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Summary: Artemis Fowl is a genius. He needs serious help, too, and in more ways than you might think. The People are demoralised, for an unknown reason. And then the Old Country reawakens, bringing with it the Old Ways, which, in their full power, could destroy all life to solidifying the Rainbow…

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Author's notes: Hello again! Heh, this is actually progressing quite fast. Anyway, I'll get on with the story…

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alex- Thank you!! Your review totally made my day (believe it or not, but I was literally bouncing ^-^;;) !! And Johnny is the best (but Wobbler is like a kid Foaly!)!

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Artemis Fowl: Legend of Annwyvn

~ Schizophrenic Inner Child ~

~~~

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Chapter the First- Black Hole

St. Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen, County Wicklow, Ireland

Artemis Fowl sighed and tapped his fingers on the desk in front of him. Typically, it was a cheap plastic table. Only the teachers had wooden desks. Apparently it was due to budget cuts. And, as usual turning to his favoured sarcasm, he was a _fairy_… although, he'd have to admit, recently he'd been quite obsessed with the figures from fantasy, particularly the ones centred in the Celtic myths, the _Tuatha Dé Danaan_…

In fact, he concentrated so much on his wild imaginings, half the time he never listened in lessons. Today, he was learning ICT. Or rather, he was supposed to be learning ICT. Artemis sat at the back, as far away from the other adolescents, the ignorant cretins they were, as he possibly could. This generally worked in his favour, as the teachers didn't always notice he was in a stupor inside of his mind. This didn't work in 'Information and Communication Technology', which generally was all right, as it studied computers. The teacher was sharper than most in the school for dunderheads. Mr Thomas was short, and a little overweight. He had the cough of someone who has smoked something consisting of tobacco for several decades. The strangest thing about him was his very ruddy complexion, which filled the young genius with déjà vu…it was permanently a dark red, unless he got worked up, when it turned a deep purple. Like now, for instance. One more thing: he always bellowed.

"FOWL! ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION OR ARE YOU NOT?"

Artemis started at the roar in his ear. That was unmistakably a rhetorical question. 

"WELL, FOWL! ANSWER ME! ARE. YOU. PAYING. ATTENTION?"

Artemis could hear the titters of his classmates now. They were so easily amused - it was pathetic. Evidently the question had not been rhetorical. He sighed and rubbed his temples. Obviously the teacher's cognitive functions had not woken up today - unlike his! If the teacher actually had any, that is…

The man's eyes bulged in anger. How dare this…this _boy… _disrespect _him_…right, he was going to send him to the Principal's office! Though, of course, all the staff had, well, heard things about the boy. Genius he may be, but some of the rumours Po had spread were a little too far fetched, even for the counsellor, but, if the boy were a victim of dementia, as he seemed at the moment, then he'd better be treated softly, with kid gloves. Right, softly. 

"FO- Fowl, please report to the Principal's office, NO-now. Tell him I sent you. Spend the rest of the lesson there, even," Mr Thomas strained, perspiring with the effort to be nice to a juvenile. 

The boy's eyes opened wide in surprise. Mr Thomas saying "please"? Fighting the urge to smirk, the boy worked out the pros and cons of reporting to Principal Guiney. Then, without even murmuring assent to the teacher, he got up, collected his things and left. 

Mr Thomas sighed. Christ, but that was hard! He turned round, and stalked back up to the front of the class. If you had been passing the window above the door, as Artemis was, you would have spotted a gleaming patch of oval skin, with several flabby dents, bouncing among the tops of the plastic monitors. It was really quite amusing, thought Artemis, before walking away.

The last few sniggers at Artemis died away as Mr Thomas reached the front. Not fast enough. The teacher spun quickly and caught glimpses of the culprits. The ICT teacher mentally clicked his fingers and prepared to give out multiple detentions. He was in his element now, unlike when dealing with boy genii who were stark, raving bonkers…

"RIGHT, I SAW THAT!"

*

Spud's Spud Emporium, Downtown Haven, Lower Elements

Spud's Spud Emporium. Not exactly a nice place you'd want to go to for, say, a family reunion, or a party. It had an assortment of terrifying food, rubbish service and even scarier customers. (Every now and again, Troll Hunters, not unlike Mud Men Bounty Hunters, would pop in for a rubbery meal. Not that anything was wrong with this. Sometimes they brought their captured trolls with them. _That_ was the problem) Despite this, it managed to escape closing down, with margins of large profits. The Emporium was still being rebuilt, nearly a year after being damaged by the goblin triad, the B'wa Kell, though it was open every other Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. And only a couple of customers had been able to find the lumps of granite plaster from the ceiling in their food and had been able to identify it, without choking to death.

Needless to say, then, that when Spud spotted one of his customers tentatively poking at a burger, he simply sighed and went over to repeat his "100% pure, good meat" speech. 

"Oh no. I've heard that rubbish. It's not '100%' meat. I know," the customer said, with a challenging glint in her green eyes, playing her trump card, "because I will send one off for analysing. Guess what the results were?"

Spud groaned and rubbed his head. He recognised this character. She generally came in whenever she could, and caused havoc with his head with her grammar and tenses. He wasn't well educated, fair enough, but he knew an adequate amount to make his head ache when he listened to her. 

The unruly character smirked in triumph when the portly Spud walked away, still rubbing his head. She loved to do that to that to people, especially to Commander Root, a friend of her parents. She'd learnt the trick off a friend; if you confuse people enough, they'll do whatever you say. It worked in the same sort of way as mesmerising, except, obviously, it wasn't illegal to perform on another fairy. 

She commenced in poking the rubbery substance, stopping only when she heard a faint, distant roar. She looked around to see if anyone else had heard it. It didn't seem like it. A mother was forcing two squirming toddlers to stop throwing their milkshake and "_drink it!"_ Another couple were grimacing and clutching their stomachs as they made their way to the exit. A group of teenagers, not very old, perhaps only thirty, sitting round and gossiping, not touching their food. Nope, noone had heard it. Bu then, as she turned back round, she saw that someone else _had_ heard it. She groaned, echoing Spud. It would be him, wouldn't it?

Taliesin was a pixie. He could trace his lineage all the way back through to before Frond. Before Frond! Even historians had to agree that was an incredible accomplishment. But that was where his downfall was. He was the only child of his parents, Emi and Rhys. Emi was particularly proud of her heritage, as a descendant of Ohm, the great prophet. Though she was not endowed, her son was. Taliesin was the latest generation of pixie prophets. 

Unlike his ancestor, he didn't have to look up people's noses and in their tissues to see the future. If he did, it was generally a bit hazy, so he preferred magma. It had a lot more personality, for molten rock, compared to snot, and he felt comfortable when he looked at it. It reminded him of milkshakes, especially when a sheaf of boulders had been knocked afloat. He wasn't quite sure why.

Now, he was in Spud's Emporium, with a milkshake in front of him, and he'd just picked up his straw again, after picking out a rather gritty morsel from his teeth, when he heard it.

_Enter _

He gripped the table, his knuckles turning white, his face paling. _'Not here, not now!'_

_ENTER_

There wasn't even any magma in sight… why was it happening here? He didn't have that much of a gift for foresight, but if only it would hurry and he could…

_ENte…_

It was too late for prophesying. A sound, similar to the recorded version of thunder he'd heard in class, rang through his head, disrupting any fragile link of thought. The future was rolling on past, regardless. The Battle had already begun. 

*

Principal Guiney's office, St. Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen

"Well, Artemis? Do you have anything to say?"

"No. If I did have anything to say to you and your cohorts, it would be my concern and my concern only. I am afraid I don't profess anything in the company of philistines."

The soft, interested air surrounding the principal hardened. So did his expression.

"My colleagues and I are not philistines, Artemis. We only want to help you," Guiney said, lying through his teeth. He would love to expel this child. But he couldn't; both of the youth's parents were generous donors of great sums of money and Doctor Po had said the boy intrigued him. And, unlike the boy, he always held his colleagues in highest esteem. Or, at least, almost always.

Artemis smiled to himself. Insulting the principal was so easy…like taking candy from a baby. Or gold from a lepre- he shook himself. There he went again, on about mythology. He straightened a crease in his blazer instead.

The Principal continued, in a tone usually reserved for voices reading self-help books for the terminally pathetic, fully aware that the youngster was not paying attention. He looked down at the file on the desk in front of him, in between layers of papers and his 'phone, and, as he read aloud from it, he smiled. It was not the faked jovial smile he wore when Artemis first came in. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

Artemis put up a pale finger to flick a strand of raven hair out of his dark blue eyes. He looked up suddenly, half-hearing something the principal said. The lock fell down again. Part of him inwardly sighed at that, though it wasn't a lot. Most of him was too busy surveying the teacher with a penetrating, and slightly anxious, glower.

"Pardon? Tell me, does this have anything at all to with that obnoxious email?"

Guiney smiled, in spite of himself. That was why he liked the boy. He was always polite. He even insulted others in a polite fashion, or, at least, in a way they most likely wouldn't understand.

"I said, Doctor Po has had a fantastic idea. I highly recommend he explain it this time, as all credit is due to him, and yes. I sent that email for your parents," Principal Guiney frowned. Good old Po. Any juvenile would hate this, but Artemis in particular would despise this. He shared a secret look with the counsellor and Po smiled back in return. This was going to be fun. 

"Master Fowl," began Doctor Po, sitting down in a chair next to Artemis, noting the boy's surprise, "Over the several terms, I have been studying you. You knew this, and indeed, you have played your little mind games all the way through… You knew that that was dysfunctional behaviour, and my colleague has agreed to try a little, ah, 'experiment'…"

Artemis had not even noticed that Po was in the room. Certainly, a first. As Po rambled on, including psychiatric jargon, no doubt to impress Guiney, Artemis picked out the bare minimum of what he was being told. As he was a dysfunctional adolescent - it seemed being a mere genius held no merit, compared to Po's theory of "dysfunctionality" - or so he seemed, an associate of Po was agreeing to try some sort of social experiment. Artemis' lip curled at the word 'social'. No doubt that meant he'd be put on parade…_"Roll up! Roll up! Come and see the world's only dysfunctional Irish boy genius!"_ …he rolled his eyes, and listened again.

"…It's only optional, you don't have to do it…"

"In that case, I refuse. I am not a test subject," he replied.

Po frowned, and glanced over to Guiney for support. Artemis saw this, and realised he was most likely set up. Set up by a pair of clowns. Very well, he thought, I'll play along. Like spider to a fly.

Guiney leaned forward, his fingers steepling, and looked into Artemis' eyes. 

Artemis rolled his eyes again. Corny or what?

The Principal decided to ignore this, however tempting it would be to just…

"Ah, and so we meet a minor snag. I should have you know that you parents know about this little, ah, idea of Doctor Po's, and have already given their consent. They have also been quite enthused about this trial, and, most importantly, its effect on you. Wouldn't it be awful, now, to disappoint them?"

Artemis gaped mentally. Outwardly though, he managed to control of enough of his features to remain fairly calm. This was blackmail. Here was the principal of a school thinking he could out manipulate a genius. Even though it wouldn't work, it was still fairly impressive. Blackmail _couldn't_ work, but Guiney wouldn't know that - it'd need a lot more to crush Artemis Fowl the Second. The impressive aspect of it was a little worsened by the conceited smirk of Guirney's face. Artemis noticed the man's fingers hovering above the 'phone. Like the spider to the fly, he reminded himself. 

"No, don't telephone my parents," the boy said, his head falling into his hands, his voice rising in dramatised panic. "Very well, then. I agree to this preposterous venture." He looked up. "This will come to no good end, you have realised this? I will do my best to behave as pleasantly as humanly possible, and therefore rendering all your research null and void, as it seems you have based your findings on my…my personality problems."

Po raised his eyebrows, not at all convinced by the youth's acting skills. "Of course. What else would be expected of Artemis Fowl? Behave however as you see fit."

Now it was Artemis' turn to raise his eyebrows. "And what are the circumstances?" 

In response he was handed a piece of paper, which detailed the finer points exactly, such as accommodation - Artemis sighed with relief when he found out the other adolescent wouldn't be staying at Fowl Manor. It all seemed quite satisfactory. Unusual for the counsellor.

"And when will I meet the other guinea pig?"

Po nodded at the door. A loud bang was heard, and an even louder "OUCH!" Artemis groaned. What had he got into now?

~~~

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A/N: Okay, I introduced several O.C.s. Just to warn you, there will be entire cast of O.C.s, but mostly minor (very minor!) parts. One, or two - cliché, I know - will have a major-ish part, but this is dependant to the plot. Also, one is WELSH, so if you have stupid views on accents and whatnot, please be warned, and don't flame 'cause of this. (Also, no dialogue changes or anything. Can't abide it. Check out the _Soddit_ for that)

Anyway, please review (guess it's too late to say read AND review! ^_^) and tell me what you thought of this!


	3. Chapter the Second

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Disclaimer: Actually, there's no need for this. I received the rights to Artemis Fowl a month or so ago, for Christmas. Thanks, Eoin!

No, I'm only joking. Duh. No matter how much wishing I may do, I own near to nothing, especially recognisable characters. Then, they either belong to Eoin Colfer (*worships*) or are from Celtic myths. However, I own Tal! He's mine, my precious… (just been watching waaaay too much TLotR… ^_^) I just stole the name from the dude in legends. Heh. 

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Summary: Artemis Fowl is a genius. He needs serious help, too, and in more ways than you might think. The People are demoralised, for an unknown reason. And then the Old Country reawakens, bringing with it the Old Ways, which, in their full power, could destroy all life to solidifying the Rainbow…

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Author's notes: Wow. For once, I've written a whole chapter that's completely Underground. Amazing. No wonder it's taken since forever. ¬_¬ It's actually been on my computer for the fortnight or so, but meh. I'm posting now 'cause it's SNOWING! IT'S FRICKING SNOWING, PEOPLE! IMAGINE… SNOW… IN THE U.K.! WOW! *slaps self out of hysteria*

Anyway, please read and review! I will be eternally grateful for any small sign that you have taken time to read this story. I will be grateful for even the smallest flame… so thanks to all reviewers!

Now that that disgusting plead for reviews (egocentric does not even begin to describe me ^_^) is over, I'll shut up. Meep. 

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alex - Yay, thank you! 

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Tonduil the elf - Heh, thank you! You probably know what I mean by accents; I just call them that ^_^ Well, what I mean by accents are bits of dialogue that have been changed to fit with a character's speech. For example, Hagrid from Harry Potter. Does that help? (By the way, I shouldn't say this but: Cool dragon!)

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Anthony 1234 - The prologue is sorta confusing, but, then again, it's not meant to be clarifying; more like Ohm's prophesy at the bottom of the first book. I'm trying to tie in Celtic mythology, because it's so interesting that it's hard not to. Plus, it's what EC did, so… yeah. ^_^ 

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angel - *is chuffed* Thanks!

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Harry Fowl - I have to agree -- I do totally suck at endings. I'm trying to revise that ending, so it may change. Also, yeah, I'll try to keep to about seven major characters, but I'm not promising anything. Who said anything about thirty characters? Blimey, I dunno about you, but I could never write so many minor characters for just one story.

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That Aerin - Thank you! I'm very glad you think I'm competent (i.e. I don't… ^_^;;)! I think I've named the Prologue, so I hope it's worked. And, err… nice toasters? *is very, very scared ^_~*

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Blue Yeti - Yup, Johnny Maxwell. The dude! 

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Luke L - Luke, thanks all the same, mate, but I might just have to kill you on Monday. Hah. ^_^

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Artemis Fowl: Legend of Annwyvn

~ Schizophrenic Inner Child ~

~~~

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Chapter the Second - The Golden Gate

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Ops Booth, Police Plaza, Haven City

"Okay, Foaly. You've had your fun. Now, will you stop playing the merchant of death and tell us what in Frond's name is happening or am I going to have to call in the budget threat?"

Foaly whistled. 

"Honestly, Julius. This is _serious_, you get me? Now, no time for jokes and don't try to bluff. I _know_ all those unfunny budget jokes _were_ jokes…"

Holly Short snorted at the look on Commander Root's face.

"Foaly! Call me Julius one more time and you will lose any budget you have left, 'you get me'? Stop wasting time-"

Foaly moved his hands up and down in a futile attempt to calm Root down.

"Okay, okay, _Commander_," he said, grinning at Root's red face. He picked up a sheaf of paper that jutted out from inside a machine. "I've been getting some very strange readings in the last hour or so. One was purely People magic and the most recent I can trace, so we know it's happened just now. I think it was that pixie, whatshisname, Ohm's descendant-"

"Taliesin, I think," cut in Holly.

Foaly shrugged. "Probably. Something like that. Any-"

"Wait, Foaly," Root interrupted. "What do you mean 'People magic'? Surely you're not implying…?"

"Frond, you two have no manners. And yes, Julius. 'People magic'. That brings us to reading number two. It's magic, because it's certainly not something man-made, but my computers don't recognise it. Or rather, they do, but they can't classify it. That means we are probably dealing with something old here, very _old_."

Holly frowned. "Old? What do you mean, 'old'?"

"I'm talking really old. Unclassifiable old. As in before Frond old. Old Country old."

"That's _old_!"

As both Holly and Foaly continued adding analogies into exactly how old everything was, Julius Root didn't even think of bellowing at them. And, for him, that usually takes a great deal of effort. It didn't in this case. Perhaps that's because he was already occupied.

"Foaly… It's not a good thing, is it, when your monitors are flashing red, right?"

"WHAT?"

*

__

She lies beneath the ground, waiting in her living death. She will wait forever.

And suddenly the ground shakes. She realises the Country is stirring. She smiles. It is time, time to reawaken. But do they know what they do?

Another tremor reinforces her doubts rather than assuaging her fears. For all that they know not what they do…

It is time…

*

__

Spud's Spud Emporium

Taliesin was already frothing at the mouth before she got to him. That was bad, and it meant he wouldn't come out of his trance until the visions stopped. So she talked to him; Emi had said it helped sometimes.

"Come on, Tal. Snap out of it, already!"

He turned his head and stared at her with unseeing eyes.

"Oka-ay. You can do that all you want, Tal. You should_ know _by now - It doesn't creep me out!"

Taliesin started thrashing in his seat, hitting her several times before she managed to grab his hands. For all the bruises she had collected over the years, the fits were a good a sign. The real Taliesin would emerge soon. 

"Sssh," she crooned, trying to get her voice as soft as she could. "It's okay, it's okay."

Abruptly, Taliesin doubled over coughing. When he straightened up, his eyes were unfocused, his nose was running and both blood and phlegm were dripping off his chin. 

"Hazel?" he asked, his voice weak.

"Who else do you know who'd put up with your spastic self, eh?"

Taliesin flinched.

"I didn't mean it that way, idiot! So, what did you see?"

"I… I'm not quite sure…" 

"You can tell me, mate - Hey, where do you think you're going? You need to sit, Emi-"

Taliesin had lurched to his feet, and stayed there unsteadily. "I don't know what I saw, exactly, but I need to tell the Council, the LEP…"

Hazel sighed. "Great. The Council. Won't Mom be pleased."

"I'm sorry. You don't have to come, you know."

"Tal, it's not your fault, you don't have to apologise. And, anyway, I want to come. I _need _to. After all, your mom said-"

"Yes, I _know!_ What is Mum, one of the gods? I live with her, hello!" Tal burst out, annoyed. It was just so _irritating _how reverential Hazel acted around his mum. Typically, Hazel came back with a supposed smart comment -- or, at least, _tried_ to…

"Hi to you too."

"Oh, shut up."

*

__

Downtown, Haven City

Nicole Pine had just picked up the most _gorgeous_ purple trousers when her phone went. She sighed and rummaged through her bag for it. When she found it she picked it up with her delicate, elven fingers and held it up to her ears.

"Yo."

The caller's voice came back badly.

"Nicky… want… meet…?"

"Hang on!" she trilled. "There isn't much reception, can you hear me? No? Okay, I'll step outside…" _Pity about the trousers, _she thought. _I'll come back for them later._

She stepped outside, stumbling a little in her ridiculously heeled shoes.

"Is that… Oh my gods!"

The voice from her phone wasn't much better.

"What… happening? Nicky… you… there… Nicky?"

The phone slipped from between her manicured nails.

"Nicky!"

The crowd in the Downtown shop area had all stopped, tens, even hundreds, of fairies halted in their trek of materialism. They were all staring at one thing, hypnotised, mesmerised, by its beauty, its call. The golden light it emitted played on their skin, shining so alluringly, many thought it was one of their gods.

It was, in a twisted sense of the word.

_"Come to me, my children… You have changed in so many ways… Would you deny a mother her children…? Come back to me, Children of Danu…. Come back…"_

The voice had to belong to an angel, a goddess. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever heard in the history of the world and the fairies in the crowd went to the voice that beckoned… They walked into the golden portal that would carry them to… Where, they didn't care. Nothing mattered, except going through the Golden Gate.

As the first of the spellbound fairies made it to the Gate, they hit a solid wall and were knocked out. The flood of fairies didn't stop, and more and more unconscious fairies piled up.

_"No…! My Children…"_

The few of the People still aware began to weep as the beautiful voice cried out in anguish, while others laughed in pure joy for a second voice.

_"No, Danu… The People are only the _People_ because they have to ability to choose… They chose to stay here in the Land of Mud… They CHOSE, Danu…! If they are ever to come back to your arms in peace and happiness, it must be their choice…"_

"No, Eriu… No, my Children…"

The Golden Gate vanished. The People who were not already crying began to silently sob, for no reason other than they felt they had missed out on the greatest opportunity of their lives. 

__

The warriors had begun to arrive, and with them came the living death that could ravage the Mud Men, yet would keep the People alive. As the magic-laced walls around them vanished, they found themselves once again … living…

From a short distance, a young fairy watched the tumult of action in the Downtown. She watched as the Golden Gate that she'd read about so many times appeared. She watched as she heard the voices. The beauty did not deceive her at all; no notion of happiness or perfection entranced her now, not as they used to. She watched the sorrow as the Gate disappeared, and then the silence.

She checked her watch.

_Interesting_, she thought. _How very interesting._

Nate Pendulum dropped the bunch of flowers that she'd clung to into the bin. Auntie would not appreciate them. Instead, she got out the notebook and pencil she made sure she always carried with her. Auntie would be pleased with _this_, however…

~~~

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Author's Notes - It's snowing, it's snowing! YAY! Ahem, yes. *sweatdrops* 

Anywho, please review! Wow, that rhymed! *is amazed at self* Crivvens… Anyway, I have the next chapter on my hard-drive, all written up, so updating may come unnaturally fast… ^_^

By the way, is "mom" correct? I'm not American -- Hazel's meant to be, if you haven't guessed by now -- but I *think* that's right… am I? Meh. I have no idea, really, do I? 

Tot ziens, and press that little "Go" button. You know you want to…


	4. Chapter the Third

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Disclaimer & Summary: I'm sure you get the idea by now. Me no own Arty and co. etc. Never have, never will.

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A/N: Ah, and so we meet again with Artemis. And, whoopdedoo, another weird chapter title. None of them seem to have any relevance whatsoever. Oh well. ^_^;; Anyway, here's a customary beg for reviews: Please do. Meh. That is all I will say. And thank you to all reviewers! 

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alex - Thank you! *_trés_ random* Random laugh, btw *sweatdrops* ^_^

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Hip Hop Diva - Meep! Thanks! *blushes* And I did read that story, too! Brilliant, it is!

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Trinity Day - YAY, THANKS! And soomebody doesn't mind the OCs I'll probably put in! Um, just to clear it up -- Tal _is_ an only child, and he is Welsh, so he was referring to his mum, Emi, as "Mum". Hazel is American and so referred to his mum, Emi, and her mum, a Council Member (which is why Hazel is so reluctant to go to the Council), as "Mom" etc. Hope that cleared it up and that I didn't spoil anything. 

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Artemis Fowl: Legend of Annwyvn

~ Schizophrenic Inner Child ~

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Chapter the Third- 'Houston, we have a problem'

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Counsellor's Office, St. Bartleby's School

Artemis glared at the counsellor.

It was all Po's fault. He had deliberately _plotted_ with this colleague of his and Artemis' own parents. He meant to _humiliate_ Artemis. 

"Well," the boy said, finally. "You have been busy, Doctor."

Po laughed. "I don't know what you mean, Artemis-"

"Oh, you do, though. You must have had some hand in this business-" here Artemis waved a vague hand in the direction of the other charge "-and you purposely partnered me with this…_child_…!"

"Hey!" piped a voice, from the corner of the room. "You say that like it's a bad thing!"

Artemis delivered a piercing gaze to someone other than Po. 

"Perhaps that because it _is_."

He turned back to the counsellor. "Well?"

Po grinned at the youth.

"Artemis, I swear, I had nothing to do with the… eh… volunteers…" 

Artemis raised an eyebrow at this, and Po's grin widened a little. Ooh, Artemis was going to pay for all the mind games he'd played, for all the little digs, for all the troubles and pains he'd caused the staff of St. Bartleby's. And this… child, as Artemis himself had put it, was going to do it for them.

Po leaned back on the faux Victorian chair, and chuckled. He was going to _enjoy_ the next couple of weeks…

*

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Ireland, en route from St. Bartleby's to Fowl Manor

Branwen Morgan wriggled in the large seat of the Bentley, straining to see out of the tinted windows. Failing that, and in danger of losing herself in the expanse of leather, she stopped and looked to her side.

The vampire was glaring at her. 

She smiled.

He didn't return it.

"What?" she asked.

He didn't reply.

Branwen looked away, trying to shake off the feeling she was messing with something beyond her control. The girl shivered. What was his name? Apollo? No, but it was Greek, she'd thought. Arwen? No, that was an elf's name, a girl's name -- Artemis! That was it! She shivered again. Artemis Fowl the Second gave her the ultimate creeps; everything about him, from his name to his bleached skin, just made her want to find a cross and hold it up, or eat a piece of garlic. 

She wished Doctor Salston were there. _No_, she thought. _I don't. Not really. But at least he'd know what to _do.

Her counsellor had stayed at the school she'd gone to, with the other doctor and the funny man -- Guiney, his name was -- who looked like he had no idea what was going on. Apparently, they'd been a week or so early; it was just like Salston to get it wrong -- _and he probably got it wrong on purpose, too,_ she thought bitterly. 

No wonder the vampire didn't look all too happy to see them. Po, or whatever that other doctor had been called, had grinned at Salston and they had shook hand very animatedly. It was then she realised that this 'experiment' of theirs was probably incredibly, incredibly evil.

_Hmm_, she thought. _Like a game._

They'd set them up, just like in that game she'd got recently. _And_, she wondered, _what did _I****do? I mean, I can understand a vampire having counselling, looking and acting like he****does, but I haven't done anything big. So, okay, I'm obsessive, and I have several other 'disorders'. Big deal. So, okay, I've been expelled from a dozen schools, but that wasn't my_ fault! Not really. _

She got the strange feeling that she was being watched again, and wriggled. _Stupid vampire. Stupid Salston. It's all their fault._

Artemis looked with disdain at the fidgeting girl. Branwen Morgan, her file had said, is a deluded child, with beliefs of the existence of strange entities. She had been expelled from a dozen schools and refused from dozens more. She was, Artemis considered, well on her way to being a proud member of any insane asylum; so what were they doing mixing someone like _her_ and someone like _him_?

She jiggled about again, and Artemis could barely restrain himself from sighing in frustration. She was such a… such a _child_! Physically, she was only a year younger or so, but mentally -- even without his genius -- she must be at least six years his junior. 

He glared at her. Perhaps, he couldn't blame her for Po's doing -- she probably didn't like it any more than he did; and in blaming her, he would be being childish himself -- but it felt good to do so.

"What?" she asked, noticing for the first time he was glaring at her. 

Artemis turned away in contempt, enjoying the irritated look on her face. She shivered, and Artemis smiled slightly, making his resemblance to a vampire even more uncanny. 

It might just be possible to turn the tables, he thought. If so, this might just be fun…

*

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Fowl Manor, Ireland

The Bentley drove serenely through the big iron gates, and up into the estate. Juliet Butler, waiting for it outside, waved it up through the massive drive until it parked outside the main entrance. Butler, Juliet's older brother, got out and opened the door for Artemis, his charge, and then Artemis' parents. Branwen clambered out the open door nearest to her.

Artemis shielded his eyes against the sun; it was only about two in the afternoon, according to his expensive, gold-plated watch. One of the advantages of this 'experiment' was that he was excused from Bartleby's until further notice. He ignored the girl, who was tugging on his arm, mouth gaping like a fish.

"Um… um… is that… that isn't… can't be… can it?"

Finally, Artemis cracked. "Yes?" he snapped.

"Is that… is that the Jade Princess?"

She was pointing at Juliet, who was helping Butler unload baggage from the Bentley's boot. Evidently his parents had been shopping in Dublin before going to the school. 

"Juliet? Yes, I suppose she is. She's only a part-time wrestler, and spends the rest of her time here at the Manor."

Branwen's eyes were widening and she looked like she was about to faint. 

"Really?"

She scurried over to Juliet and said something that made the older girl laugh. 

Artemis shook his head. Females. They had to be the strangest things on this planet.

Two pairs of feet silently padded in the carpeted corridors of Fowl Manor. Every now and then the silence was punctuated with a rather large bang and exclamations, often accompanied by somewhat vulgar language. 

"Honestly. Can you please keep some control over where you walk? Or what you walk into?"

Branwen scowled and rubbed her nose. "Shut up, Fowl. Is it really my fault?"

Artemis looked back at her with an annoying air of superiority. "Well, yes. Of course. Am I making you walk into doors? I think not."

"I'm just tired. That's not my fault," she protested.

"Really? I wonder how much jet-lag you can get from flying in the same time-zone?" 

Branwen stuck her tongue out.

Artemis tutted. "Tsk, tsk. Such childish behaviour."

"Yeah? You think _this_ is childish behaviour? Believe me, I can come up with worse, especially if I can't remember where anything is. But, hey, perhaps I'll just have to demonstrate such behaviour in front of your parents, if you don't believe me."

"Is that a threat? If it is, then it's not much of one."

"You'll be sorry-"

"I highly doubt it." 

Branwen snorted and stomped off. Artemis smiled contentedly. His plan was going well -- not that it was much of a plan, in actuality. More of a hotchpotch scheme than any other he'd come with. All the same, he was sure it would work just as well. He chuckled derisively. How he _loved_ playing mind-games.

Branwen stormed off. That… vampire… was so annoying! He'd spent the last couple of hours winding her up and now she wanted to put as much distance between her and that inhuman monster as possible.

"Okay, so where am -- oof!"

Branwen had come to a room she didn't recognise. It was filled with televisions and satellite readers. A wonder it hadn't been locked. She thought for a moment before she realised…

"Oh, groovy! This is the control room! Just like in that movie!"

She was wrong. It was, in fact, the room from which Artemis had surveyed a dastardly scheme that made him half a ton of gold richer. But she wasn't to know that.

Branwen hummed ecstatically, spinning on chairs and pretending to push random buttons. "Houston, we have a problem… dun, dun, da-dun… Deathstars are on our trail, Luke…"

She was busy mimicking someone driving… something, when the door opened.

"What do you think you are doing?"

She dropped the pose of a wheel in her hands hurriedly. 

"Um, just trying to… err… see where I was, judging by the… eh…" she stuttered, frightened out of her skin by the surprise and the icy tones in the voice.

Artemis' dark blue eyes were livid. "What if you had broken some of this equipment in your tomfoolery? Hmm? What then? This isn't the cockpit of a space-ship, you incompetent-"

"Okay, okay! I get the idea! No need to blow up!"

"Hmm," drawled Artemis, calming down. He had surprised himself when he had almost 'blown up' in anger. Most unlike him. "Now, get out."

Branwen almost stuck her tongue out but didn't. Instead, she grinned at him, most disturbingly and stomped out of the room.

Artemis turned to make sure she'd gone, and turned to his precious monitors. "Ah, there. Has she done any damage?" It didn't appear so in his primary inspection, and he was disturbed in his secondary check by a loud clicking sound.

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Click.

It was the door locking.

Branwen entered the large sitting room, amazed that she'd actually managed to find somewhere where there would be _people_, rather than the metaphorical skeletons in the dungeons. Artemis' mother was there, as was his father. Doctor Salston was there, and Maria Williams, his assistant in "difficult matters".

"Hello again, Branwen, dear. Do you know where Artemis is? His father and I need to talk to him about… all of this."

Branwen Morgan considered. She crossed her fingers behind her back before she said anything.

"No, I'm sorry. I have no idea where he is."

Angeline smiled distractedly. "Thank you anyway."

"Come on then, Branwen," said Salston, standing up. "We'd best be off." Turning to Angeline again, he said, "We'll come back tomorrow, shall we?"

Branwen stifled a half laugh, half groan at that. She wondered if Fowl would have been found by then. _No_, she thought. _Probably not_.

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A/N#2: Oh dear. I did go a bit Italics happy, didn't I? Heh. Never mind that now… *whistles* Please review, people, I said the magic word!

Vernon Dursley: NEVER SAY THE "M" WORD IN THIS HOUSEHOLD AGAIN!!

Okay, I'm scaring myself now, so toodles 'til the next update, which may well be very erratic… ^_^;;


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